


In the Stacks

by missbeizy



Category: Glee
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:04:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbeizy/pseuds/missbeizy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PWP.  Prompt: "Blaine blowing Kurt underneath a table in a library"</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Stacks

**Author's Note:**

> For [dragontamerblaine](http://dragontamerblaine.tumblr.com/).

“Well, aren’t you? I mean, we can’t even finish a project without someone bursting into song.” He pauses. "Don't get me wrong; I love that. But my dad is paying for this education, so I'd like to finish the year with decent grades."

Blaine blinks. “Okay, most of that about the singing—is my fault.”

“All I’m saying is that I’ve got a pass and I think we should use it.” Their chemistry teacher had given Kurt access to one of the staff libraries, something previously unheard of. Blaine is torn between being impressed and concerned that Mr. Katzer just has an inappropriate crush on Kurt, because he sure as heck had never given Blaine a pass last semester.

“Can I still burst into song? This place has amazing acoustics.”

“Sit. Book. Read. Learn. Good grades.” Kurt grins, crossing his legs and settling in.

He is far too enthusiastic about this for Blaine’s liking. Alright, so—Blaine may have sex on the brain today, but he can’t help it. The way that Kurt wears the Dalton trousers just does things to him. The way he crosses his legs and lean back in his chair does things to Blaine, too.

After about a half hour he realizes that all he’s accomplishing is adding several new scenarios to his mental masturbation reserves.

“God, it’s like a tomb in here,” he sighs, scribbling a few more notes.

Kurt has made it a personal goal to find all the quiet studying spots in Dalton. “I love it. I could never find a place to just relax at McKinley.”

Blaine watches him, the tick in his adorable cheeks and the way his hair falls and his fingers around a pen and realizes that he is absolutely screwed for the day in terms of studying. There’s really only one thing that’s going to get his mind off of Kurt.  
More Kurt.

He idly flicks a pencil across the table, muttering a low “oops” as it falls over Kurt’s side. Feeling incredibly bold, he retrieves said pencil, then crawls up between Kurt’s knees, putting his fingers lightly on either thigh.

Kurt tenses. “Blaine?”

Blaine kisses along the inseam of his pants, humming. “Studying,” he says, squeezing Kurt’s thighs.

“Oh my god, Blaine, we’re in public.”

Blaine nuzzles his face against Kurt’s inner thigh. “Yes we are.”

“We—we agreed that—”

He presses his cheek to the interested half-bulge in Kurt’s pants. “We can change our minds.” Kurt is tense—and then he lets go just an inch, legs going soft against the chair. 

“Um,” he says, and Blaine can just see his face red, his hands fluttering uselessly on the tabletop, not knowing what to do precisely with the attention, leaving it up to Blaine to set the pace.

Blaine really doesn’t mind. His mouth is wet from just thinking about getting Kurt hard, about tracing Kurt’s cock with his tongue, about sucking it between his lips.

“Oh god,” Kurt breathes when Blaine undoes his pants and takes him out. “Oh my god I cannot believe that we’re doing this, Blaine. Blaine.” Blaine tongues his way along the shaft. “Oh, Blaine.” Kurt bends in the chair, legs spreading, and one hand creeps down to tangle in Blaine’s hair. “Oh.”

He can’t wait; he closes his mouth around the head and sucks, bobs several times, then sinks down to take the whole thing into his mouth. 

“Blaine,” Kurt whimpers.

It takes about three minutes from first real suck to Kurt twisting his hair painfully, hips thrusting in the chair, fucking up into Blaine’s mouth as he comes, spurting, over Blaine’s teeth and tongue.

Blaine hums hungrily, swallowing. He’s shaking with arousal as he does up Kurt’s pants and crawls back to his side of the table.

“Anyone could’ve—” The door didn’t lock, and it isn’t exactly after hours. 

Blaine throbs in his pants as he stares, still rather aroused, at Kurt’s beet red, sweaty face. “We could—go over by the stacks?”

Kurt flushes, grinning, and looks away.


End file.
